Series: Persona 3
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Title: It's Just Coffee.
"You look like you need some rest, Mitsuru."
The red-head ignored him and went on to reading her textbook intently, which was laid out on her desk. They had their final exams the next day, and she looked more than stressed as she flipped through the pages. They had been going to the Tartarus so much lately, that she had neglected her studies. This was the only time she could study. She was not going to fail.
"Mitsuru? You're not going to fail."
Mitsuru gave out a heavy sigh and looked at Akihiko, was leaning against her doorframe, keeping one hand on the edge of the door to prevent it from closing on him. He raised an eyebrow at her, urging her to go to sleep. Akihiko knew, though, that Mitsuru wasn't going to give in. She never did.
"I'm not in the mood, Akihiko. Go away." And with that, she concentrated on her textbook again. Akihiko was being such a nuisance; he always felt the need to tell her what was good for her - like not stressng herself out, not staying up so late, and generally not pusing herself to kill herself. Like he meant any good."Fine." Akihiko muttered. "Suit yourself."
Mitsuru shrugged, but at the same time she wondered why he folded so easily this time. He heard him coming closer, and out of nowhere, a cup of coffee appeared beside her hand. Mitsuru looked up at Akihiko with a questioning look, and he suddenly leaned down to give her a quick peck on the forehead.
"And what was that for?" Mitsuru questioned.
"It's just coffee." He replied, starting to walking out of her room.
Mitsuru thought about it for a moment. Then, she said, "All right. It's just coffee."
"And why is it such a shock that I might be stronger than you in battle?" Mitsuru asked with an irritated tone. Akihiko, who sat across her, looked back at her sheepishly. Akihiko had just had a conversation with Minato, which led Akihiko to realize that Mitsuru could probably defeat him in battle because of the abilities of their persona's. Lightning was weak against ice.
"Well..." He started, not really knowing how to continue. The annoyed look on Mitsuru's face was something he had seen a lot of times before, and he knew that it was best not to provoke it. "It's just that you're... Mitsuru."
"Aw! Wrong answer, buddy!" Junpei said out loudly, and Yukari had to slap him on the shoulder to keep him quiet.
"Akihiko..." Mitsuru muttered, giving him a deadly glare. Akihiko felt like he was shrinking in his seat, and the younger ones in the room seemed amused that somebody so cocky could be reduced to something like that. "Are you implying something?"
"No, I mean... you're good at a lot of stuff, Mitsuru." He replied with a gulp. "It's just that fighting is my thing, so I didn't expect you to be better at that, too."
"And me being better than you is a bad thing?" Mitsuru replied coldy, crossing her arms over her chest.
"No!" Akihiko replied quickly. He looked around the room for help, and saw Minato. Akihiko looked at Minato with half a pleading look, half a 'help me or you're dead' look. Minato was always good at calming others, of course.
Minato looked around, thinking of something. Then he looked at Mitsuru. Minato said bluntly, "Akihiko thinks he can't protect you if you're the one who's better at fighting."
"What...?" Akihiko blinked. Junpei burst out laughing, and Yukari tried to stop her own fit of giggles. "Mitsuru, that's not--" But when Akihiko went back to face Mitsuru, he realized that she was no longer listening. She had went back to reading her magazine, and a light tint of red was visible on her cheeks.
Akihiko rested back on his seat. Minato was really good with words.
Neither of them were aware on how it happened, or when it happened. They had known eachother for the longest time. Before Yukari, Minato, and the others came, it had just been the two of them. But that didn't bring them closer - they barely even acknowledged the other's presence.
So, neither of them understood. She was bothered by the fact that when he would reach over her shoulder to grab something behind her, she would suddenly go dizzy. The redhead had never realized, or cared, that he smelled so good before. And when he finally got that piece of note from the bulletin board and would step away to examine it, he would realize that she was avoiding his gaze, and he would look at her questioningly.
"What?" He would ask with a frown on his face.
She would ignore him, and she would never ask anybody what was going on with her mind.
But there were times that she would be angry at him, because he did a lot of rude things. He yells a lot. Well, she also yells a lot. But that's not the point, she still doesn't like being yelled at. And when he yells at her, she gets so irritated that she won't talk to him for days. And he will wonder why it affects him so much, because it never did before.
"Why the hell are you so angry?" He would mutter, so nobody else would hear.
And again, she would ignore him. And he would never ask anybody why it bothered him so much, because it never did in the past.
Neither of them asked, so neither of them understood. That was how it went.